My Name Was Mary Alice Brandon
by I make my own destiny
Summary: Alice starts to see visions of her past and her human life was nothing like she expected-nor was it's end. Alice's POV. "The picture I had painted myself of human life had been something out of a fairytale. The visions last night shattered that illusion."
1. Chapter 1

~Alice~

**Floodgates**

I've always been in control of my powers, my special talent, my unique insight – focusing when I needed too, and viewing the secure future of my loved ones – well, most of them. I could block my visions too. I do so on my every one of my 'birthdays' – I never miss a chance for a party, and though the decades never add age to my family or I, it is still thrilling to be the center of attention for a whole day, to be showered in gifts which were actually a surprise for once, to be adored, and not scolded for completely overdressing! It took some effort, but when you knew what you were trying to avoid seeing, you could avoid it – if that makes sense. You could close the stubborn door completely with a stern push, and then forget about it until you opened it again, indulging in the comfort and security you felt washing over you with the knowledge that everything was all right.

Lately though, the visions have just flooded my mind, come unwelcome, pushed so hard, that the door jammed in place, not closing at all, just letting the tides of the future roll in and wash me away with strong currents and nothing to hold on to.

It was nothing alarming at first, a bit irritating at the most. The essay question to a surprise test in history class sneaked its way into my mind. I was not looking for it. I was excellent at American history! I had lived through most of what we studied in class, and I had to be careful not to expose myself by purposefully achieving only mediocre results in finals and such. It only surprised me, took me by shock that my powers had tried to help me cheat in class. Carlisle as my father figure had always inspired me to be honest and never use my… advantage, to cheat. Emmett obeyed Carlisle but did not agree. He saw the obvious reason to not join the wrestling team – we didn't want to pulverize anyone – but he complained when Carlisle disallowed him from joining the track team. Being part of the background was key.

Then other visions came to me –visions of people whose future did not concern me. I saw the argument that Bella's friend Jessica Stanley would have with her mother when she found the mousey girl stealing out of her purse. I saw Mike Newton and his mother discuss the financial difficulty they were facing. I saw Katie Marshal sitting in her room, alone, rocking back and forwards sobbing over Eric Yorkie. These things were private and it was not my place to see them. I did not want to intrude, but the visions imposed themselves upon me.

Yesterday my visions took a freak turn for the worst and I saw myself. I saw my past. But –my past? My visions were of the future –What could it mean? Would I be human again? Soon? Would I be able to remember all the things I had forgotten? Would I be burned and see salvation on the other side in my true, human form?

I am glad my boys were away hunting yesterday, Jasper would have sensed the uneasiness in me, and he would have alerted Edward, who would have intruded my mind and had me committed. Again. That was my vision.

I stumbled into my father's office - my long ebony locks bouncing - and announced giddily that a stunning stranger named James had asked me to a Ball. My father had looked at me oddly, "When did you see this gentleman? You know it is improper to meet with a man in your home! And without formally introducing him…" He looked at the clock by the door "and when did you speak with this gentleman?" he asked suspiciously "There is no 'James' in Biloxi, Mary, are you feeling faint?"

I giggled and told my father that I had met a handsome traveler with pale white skin and an exotic Northern accent just the day before, and that this morning when talking with Cynthia, I had seen him approach me in the street, asking me to come with him to a Ball. I told him that I had had a flash of the scene in my mind, and that I knew it would happen.

My father just looked at me as if I was a lunatic. "Father are you all right, shall I call the servant?" I gasped concerned – fixated on his extended arm.

"What on God's earth are you speaking of?" He demanded angrily, rising out of his big chair, just in time for the chandelier above him to fall, slashing and slicing his hand into a bloody mess.

"I saw it hurting you before it fell father, I saw it fall just before it did, are you all right?"

My father never told me if he was all right – but he called out something about a demon child and omens, and hurriedly pushed past me out the door.

I had always wanted to know about my human past. I always thought that I would have been a treasured daughter of a Mississippi businessman, who was torn from her family by the tragic strike of an out of control newborn vampire. The picture I had painted myself of human life had been something out of a fairytale.

I had pictured that my mother had mourned over my death. That she had cried in the streets when she found only shreds of my satin dress in a pool of blood when out looking for me, beside herself with worry. I had imagined that my father would go red in the face when he heard, and demand that my killer be hunted down, putting a hefty bounty on the head of the man who stole his sweet Mary Alice away from him, his precious daughter, the light of his life, the apple of his eye.

The visions last night shattered that illusion.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you to my Beta, Catriona.**

**Betrayed**

The vision had confused me, and I avoided Jazz and Edward so I could be alone with myself. I sat on the roof trying to make sense of it. It was a dream that someone would have –no, everyone who knew anything about me didn't sleep. It was a hallucination –no, why would I hallucinate, it came to me with both the clarity of a vision, and the milky 'not-quite-there' texture that my family had described human memories to have –the whole scene was in my face, as clear as glass, but as if I was viewing it from underwater, the soft currents smudging the lines of my father's fearful and angry face.

Sitting alone on the roof, another vision pushed itself into my mind.

A doctor had me sitting on the floor. He asked me my name. "My name is Mary Alice Brandon, Sir," I answered calmly. He asked me when I was born and how old I was "I was born in nineteen-oh-one, on the first of December, Sir, I will be eighteen years old this year." He asked me about the boy I had seen, and I excitedly told him that I had met a charming man with a dusty shade brown hair, and the face of an angel. I told him that the man was so pale that he was radiant of light and that he had brilliant red eyes. The doctor looked up at my father disapprovingly, like he thought I was telling a lie!

My mother entered the room. She looked like me, but here eyes were puffy and red, tears still leaking from them. She was shaking slightly, and my tiny sister hid behind her, a fearful expression on her fragile face.

"Mother?" I asked, cocking my head slightly, wondering why she was so distraught.

"Richard, she always has her head in the clouds, she must have a fever! Don't do this to her! Please if you just –" My father silenced her with a look.

"Mother why are you worried for me?" I asked, puzzled by her apparent anguish. She did not look me in the eye; she only flinched at my words. I gasped as my sixth sense answered me. She was pleading with my father –as the doctor tried to tie my hands behind my back, –but not for my sake.

"Richard, we can sort this out privately, no one needs know, we can send her away under less severe circumstances!" she was bawling "Cynthia will never marry with the girl in an asylum!" She screamed at him, but his uncaring eyes just warned her to hold her tongue.

"Father, Doctor, where are you going to send me? I saw mother crying in my premonition!" Father's eyes widened, and the doctor roughly grabbed my thin arms, forcing them behind my back and pulling a vice like knot into the rope he was franticly securing around my wrists. The scene from my flash of enlightenment played again.

My mother screeched the word asylum like it was some kind of hell, but the Doctor who was hurting my arms as he dragged me out of the house reassured me that he was taking me to a nice place, until my family had calmed down. He told me he would take me to a safe place with other people who were like me. He didn't look me in the eye while he told me.

I sat on the roof until Dawn, feeling betrayed by the woman who should have been weeping over my death, not pleading that I be disposed of in a sanitary way as far as my sister's marriage prospects were concerned. I felt sold out by the father who had called the doctor to take me away when he should have been trying to avenge my abduction. I felt so _orphaned_.

**AN: If you liked it, please review it! And if you didn't, I'm open to constructive criticism, and any suggestions for future chapters, I presume it will be about 7 chapters long.**


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own Twilight or it's characters, and thank you to my beta, Catriona, you rock :-)

**Father**

As soon as I could hear Carlisle's car speeding down the motorway, I broke into a desperate run towards him. I met his car still on the road, and ran along side it, parallel, but hidden in the thick forest. When he pulled in to the drive and got out of the car, I ran up and pounced on him with such force I knocked him over. I hadn't meant to do that.

He was taken aback, but probably recognized my scent heading towards him at lightning speed, and knew not to take a defensive stance. We flew into the ground, with a huge crack to the driveway, and continued to slide along the ground for another few seconds. I had launched myself with a lot more force than I had meant.

Carlisle just looked at me when we halted, I pressed my head into his chest and sobbed dry tears, a slight amount of venom even leaking out of my squeezed tight eyes. He must have been confused, but he patted me on the head comfortingly and slowly sat up. "Alice, what's wrong?" he asked me gently, after my violent sobs had clamed to just trembles. His hands were hugging me to him, and running through my short hair soothingly.

This is what a father should do. Comfort their daughter if she was in distress, not punish her and banish her from her home for visions that were not her fault. Carlisle was patient and kind and compassionate, there was never enough he could do for us, his adopted family. Huh, _Adopted_ I'd never thought of it that way. It was ironic how one family had expelled and rejected me, _my own family_, yet this stranger had welcomed me with open arms when I turned up on his doorstep thirty-one years later. He was the greatest man alive in my eyes; no one could match his compassion, his strong morals, his unconditional love, his total willingness to forgive and forget any who sought his forgiveness.

Carlisle was a real father; he was the one who supported me through those first months adjusting to my new diet, when I wanted nothing more than to rip out the neck of a human and drink from the fountain of blood that would spew. There was nothing Carlisle wouldn't do for us, he moved us around from state to state whenever one of us blew our cover, never blaming us for uprooting the family and forcing us to flee.

He was always there for us, and when I finally looked up and met his concerned eyes, I told him everything. I told him about my visions of the past, I told him about my wretched family sending me away, most likely to my death, and I thanked him for being my father. From the bottom of my heavy rock heart, I thanked him.

We were still sitting in the driveway, on top of each other. I felt a sudden wave of embarrassment sweep over me. If I could, I would have blushed. I had jumped on him like an excited four-year-old greeting her father on his return from a long business trip. I doubt _Richard_ would have ever loved me enough to put up with an eager hug when I was _his_ child.

Carlisle helped me up and held my hand, walking me to the house. The home he had made me feel like such a valuable component of. His empathetic eyes never left me, feeling my pain as we took human speed steps to the mansion. I was still sniffing, and Carlisle waited in silence for me to talk again, to tell him what was wrong. Once in the house another vision struck me, this one, the most terrifying yet.

AN: Sorry it took so long... Coursework, but it's over now! mu ah ha ha ha!


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